Four months on, the Makgoba row at Wits continues. Philippa Garson analyses the destructive row and finds both sides wanting
WHO would have thought that a dispute between academics at Wits University could become a “rolling story” with all the dramatic elements of a national scandal? The saga has galvanised one opinion piece after another from the pens of leading newspaper columnists and political figures, bringing the minister of education and even the country’s president (say some) into the fray. Yet its plot revolves around CVs, council meetings and accusations of small-scale tax avoidance — seemingly humdrum aspects of academic life that would not usually excite more than passing gossip in the tearoom.
Yet these are not the times we know. Transition pervades our existence, unspoken tension thickens daily as carefully packaged “positions” are challenged by real-life power struggles on a new and dangerously unknown terrain. In today’s times, seemingly routine happenings resonate with symbolism and catalyse new battles, bringing on the painful birth of a new hegemony.
So when 12 white academics (and the singularly unpopular registrar for student affairs, African-American Ron Carter) moved to oust black deputy vice-chancellor William Makgoba, because they believed him unfit for the job, it was not the business as usual of axeing the man who doesn’t toe the line, or a simple question of right and wrong according to the accepted norms of a leading academic institution. It was a loaded move which tore open an already-simmering fight for the ideological control of our universities, between the existing liberal establishment and a new black elite waiting in the wings and supported by a constituency of long- disaffected black staff and students — a constituency clamouring for more ownership and perceiving tightly-guarded notions of “standards” and “academic autonomy” to be a smokescreen for keeping them out.
Chagrined by the slur on his hard-won academic credentials by a handful of mainly white deans in senior positions, with CVs of perhaps more brevity, Makgoba saw red. He also calculated with cynical opportunism that he was backed by a significant section of the university population with an axe to grind, and grew bolder by the day.
The merits of the allegations concerning the embellishment of his CV have been debated ad nauseam, a debate which will only be put to rest with some kind of public inquiry into the growing chain of allegations from both sides. But clearly, none of the “misrepresentations” appear substantial enough to have warranted the extensive covert investigation they did. And the bulk of them belong to the realm of subjectivity. Many argue that Makgoba simply did not do his job but, given that he perceived a “cabal of right-wing liberals” to be plotting against him shortly after he took office, can we blame him?
Time will tell, but time too is running out, and unless this week’s council meeting breaks the deadlock, things can only get worse when students return to campus early next month, particularly if a tribunal of three foreign academics, widely perceived by Makgoba’s supporters to be “dead in the water” before it sits, presses ahead in judging his case.
So far the administration has not shown itself to be in the driving seat in its efforts to contain the crisis. Its reactive actions have only brought on bigger problems for itself. It is all very well for some of the 13 to pontificate on the correctness of their actions, but they do so seemingly oblivious to the fact that Rome — the institution they profess to care so much about — is ready to burst into flames outside their tutorial rooms.
Realising they had unleashed a wave of long- simmering anger — both from within the institution and beyond, those in the control room might have taken some creative steps to contain the crisis, like holding a commission of inquiry into all the allegations or opting for low-key mediation from the beginning.
Instead, the university clung stubbornly to procedure in an attempt to ride the storm, and things quickly went from bad to worse.
When Makgoba retaliated by releasing his own lengthy document accusing the “Magnificent 13” (as they’ve become known by their opponents) of poor academic performance, nepotism and tax evasion, they moved to suspend him for breach of confidentiality in releasing information on their personal files. This was seen as unfair treatment by Makgoba’s supporters, who saw no protection of Makgoba’s privacy in the compiling of their dossier, and no similar action taken against any of them.
Now Makgoba clearly feels he’s on a winning ticket and, although his suspension has been lifted, he appears to be in no mood for reconciliation, and continues to reject co- operation with their parallel inquiries — the tribunal, and the “Wallis investigation” into his counter-allegations against the 13.
As council member Justice Fikile Bam flits between the two sides in an attempt to come up with an agreeable process to solve the crisis, Makgoba’s guns are still blazing. His latest allegations that his detractors at Wits conspired to prevent his appointment as vice- chancellor of UCT have yet to be proved. The allegations also illustrate that the boundaries to his sense of self-importance are
Meanwhile, in failing to quell the crisis from the beginning, the university has made itself vulnerable to the thing it wants most to avoid: government intervention. The tertiary education crises which erupted in many other African countries shortly after liberation led to the kind of government intervention that sounded funeral bells for academic autonomy. Hopefully, with our legacy of relative academic autonomy and political maturity, some compromise can be found to avoid this fate of
Some African National Congress parliamentarians appear to be all for intervention, while the Cabinet holds out against it. As yet, the government has no precedent or existing framework for intervention, and is therefore hesitant to get involved. But Wits is not the only university in crisis. The Universities of Durban- Westville and Venda, and in fact the entire tertiary sector, is dogged by problems of “transition” which won’t go away, until a new order, with some new rules, unpalatable as they may be to many, settles in.